


chasing starlight (in unwavering moonlight)

by earlgrey_milktea



Series: as long as you stand by me (ffxv works) [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Happy Ending, Light Angst, POV Second Person, Tumblr: ffxvweek, lunafreya-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: You’ve always known that your story was a tragic one. Fate is an ugly word, in your dictionary, yet you’ve been raised to follow fate, and follow it well.a story of a girl and her journey to take fate into her own hands.





	chasing starlight (in unwavering moonlight)

**Author's Note:**

> _ffxv week_  
>  day seven: **alternate endings**
> 
> *i attempted to do research bc i did not pay enough attention to lore when i watched the playthrough  
> *but i still ended up kind of skimming over the details, let me live  
> *fuck the astrals  
> *i have not yet found the courage to watch kingsglaive so /handwavey at that part
> 
> *blink and miss it lunyx  
> *a few minor canonical chara deaths at the beginning  
> *HAPPY ENDING TAG EVERYBODY

You’ve always known that your story was a tragic one. Fate is an ugly word, in your dictionary, yet you’ve been raised to follow fate, and follow it well. So you train under your mother, you listen to Gentiana, you do the best you can.

You visit the stars in your dreams. They whisper to you secrets of the future, unlock the thoughts of the Astrals. It’s difficult for you to piece together what it all means, but when you look into your reflection, you see the eyes of a girl far older than your years. 

So when the masked soldiers with the red, red eyes march in and shatter your life and your home to shreds, you’re not surprised. Noctis’ blue eyes are wide and burned into your memory as he’s carried away. You’re an orphan by the end of the day.

But you keep up with your duties as the next Oracle, Gentiana ever at your side. You keep your chin up, even with the ever-present Empire breathing down your neck, even with the heavy grey loneliness threatening to swallow you whole every time you look out the window. There are books in the library, shelves and shelves of them, spelling out information on the Astrals, on prophecies, on old magic and tradition. You read them all, and think, and think, and think.

The night before you reach Insomnia, you dream of Noctis’ fate. You wake with tears streaming down your face and something burning in your chest. The stars have showed you your own fate many seasons ago, but this. This you will not stand for.

For the first time, you are angry at the gods and their plan. For the first time, you wish to change fate.

“He is the Chosen King,” Gentiana reminds you, and you watch her glide across your room like a ghost. 

You think,  _ No. I do not care if he is the Chosen King. _

You think,  _ He doesn’t deserve this. _

You think,  _ I refuse to surrender him to this cruel, cold fate. _

And as you wipe the tears off your cheeks, a silent vow is made: you will do everything in your power, no matter what it takes—you will save him.

 

 

 

 

On one of the many restless late nights where you stay up worrying about your brother, about Noctis and his friends’ whereabouts, about the future of your people, Nyx Ulric joins you under the stars.

He’s quiet, something you appreciate. A steady presence after the ruins and the fire and the messy escape. A comfortable presence stealing attention away from the ring in your pocket, how heavy and how bone-chilling cold.

It is the only time you are selfish, the only time you consider abandoning fate altogether.

“Let’s run away together,” you whisper into the dark, and he tilts a smile at you, glinting under starlight.

He never answers, but you fall asleep in the warmth of his arms.

 

 

 

 

You never even had time to dream of Nyx’s fate. 

 

 

 

 

Noctis’ letters to you have grown shorter as the years pass, and even more hard to grasp since Insomnia’s fall. You piece together enough, and with Gentiana’s aid, you find them at the Disc.

He looks so grown up now. His bangs are too long, and he slouches a little, but he looks you in the eye and moves with a trained sort of grace and confidence. Something prickles at the back of your eyes.

“Luna,” he says, staring at you like he can’t believe it.

You almost can’t believe it, either.

“Oh, Noct,” you say, reaching for him. He’s taller than you now. His arms feel strong around your back.

His friends stand tall behind him, and you smile even as the corners of your eyes grow wet. The desert rumbles behind you, and the Astrals resonate within you, but reunited with Noctis and his friends, together now—

Now you stand a chance.

 

 

 

 

Altissia is beautiful. There are children laughing with the families in the outdoor cafes, couples strolling by the canals, people, vibrant, living people, out in the sun. A part of you wants to explore the streets and stay here forever. But the bigger part of you has felt that urgence pushing at the back of your mind even as you join the boys in the Regalia across Eos.

Your brother finds you there. He looks so much older than he is. He still looks at Noctis with disdain, but you stand in between them with conviction in your eyes, and he sighs. 

“I’ll support you,” he says, “but I don’t know how much longer I can throw the Chancellor off your trail.”

He disappears with barely a nod to the rest of your party. You watch him go, flashes of last night’s dream in your mind’s eye. You forgot to tell him you love him.

 

 

 

 

The Leviathan is temperamental, but you will not stand for it. With the waves crashing against cold stone and Noctis by your side, you grit your teeth, and glare up into the Astral’s eyes.

“You will form a covenant with Noctis Lucis Caelum,” you shout over the roars and distant drones of machines in the air. “He is the Chosen King, and you will help him.”

You don’t know how long you stand there, you don’t know how long it takes for Noctis to win her over. But when Ardyn arrives, the goddess is gone, and Noctis is ready.

“No,” you say, and you pretend you don’t shiver when all he does is throw his head back and laugh.

“My, my,” he says, deflecting Noctis’ attacks with ease. “What a stubborn little princess you are. We’ll see who wins in this curious game of fate we play.”

Altissia is shaken and flooded at the end of it all, but Noctis is reaching for your hand, so you take it, and don’t look back.

 

 

 

 

Niflheim is dark. It feels evil. The Oracle in you weeps for all the tragedies you sense, all the people you can not save. Tenebrae has always welcomed refugees with open arms, but during these years everything has been hard. You can’t let these regrets slow you down. 

“How do we get in?” growls Gladio, glaring at the locked facility doors. He looks seconds away from smashing it in.

A small noise from the back of the group. You all turn to find Prompto, shifty-eyed and lips pinched downwards, shuffling forwards and lifting his bare wrist. The scanner beeps. The door opens.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I wasn’t born a Lucian. I was—I was from here, and I’m not—I’m not human like you guys but I swear, I’ve forgotten most everything since I was rescued, I—”

“Prompto,” Noctis says. “Where you come from doesn’t matter. You’re still one of us. You’ll always be one of us.”

His eyes are shiny when he peeks up at each of you in turn. When you reach out to squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.

And you continue onwards.

 

 

 

 

“Don’t touch the Crystal,” you hiss in Noctis’ ear as Ardyn laughs before you. Noctis is frozen on the bridge, sword clenched in his hand, ring glowing on his finger. Your heart is pounding. It hurts, being this close—to everything and nothing.

“Oh, naive little girl,” Ardyn taunts you. “You can’t save everything. You have to sacrifice something. Who are you going to choose? Your beloved brat of a prince, or your beloved world?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Noctis yells at him.

Ardyn only sneers at him. His mask is cracking, and it’s hard to stare him in the face. He looks mad. Gleeful. Desperate. Tired. “You’re Chosen for a reason, Noct,” he says. “You want to defeat the Starscourge, yes? You feel the Crystal calling you, yes? Then heed it,  _ Your Majesty _ .”

You don’t need to turn your head to know the pain Noctis is wearing on his face. No one has dared to remind him of his new title yet. Not even you.

“The Crystal asks for one more King’s sacrifice,” you say, voice clear to carry across the chamber. “Just one,” you say, and you turn to Noctis to find him already waiting. He nods at you. You smile back.

When you turn towards Ardyn again, his head is cocked, and his inhuman eyes seem to stare through you. You almost feel bad. 

“You’re a King, too,” you whisper, and then Noctis is swinging over the railings, and you’re lifting your trident, and together, you put Ardyn out of his misery.

 

 

 

 

_ You’ve meddled with many fates _ , the wispy voice echoes through the darkness of your mind. It sweeps through every corner, and it’s as if you’re suspended in water. 

“I know,” you reply. You’re not awake, but you don’t feel asleep. You feel tired, mostly. Everything is dark and intangible. You drift.

_ That is very unbecoming of you, Oracle. _

“I know,” you say again. “But I disagreed with the fate the Astrals had in store.”

_ It was to save Eos. _

“By using Noctis?”

_ He is the Chosen King. _

You’re too tired to cry, so you close your eyes against the murky dark. “He’s just a boy,” you whisper.

_... You’ve rewritten fate as we know it. The Starscourge is no more. The last Crystal is no more. _

“Good.”

_ Soon, then, we will also be no more. Is that the consequence you are willing to bear? _

You open your eyes. Something is glowing at the edges of your vision. It’s fuzzy, but there’s a familiar cool presence beside you. 

“Yes,” you say. “It’s been an honour to serve you all.”

The glowing grows brighter, until you are blinking stars out of your sight. There’s a pause, and you’re aware of floating upwards.

_ It’s been an honour, as well. Good night, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret.  _

You close your eyes, and drift away.

 

 

 

 

You don’t dream of stars anymore. But you wake to sunlight, Pryna’s warmth tucked by your side, Noctis’ letter on your nightstand and Prompto’s photographs tucked in the envelope. 

You rise, and meet your fate halfway.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> lunafreya was robbed and i'm never going to be able to do her justice but she deserves everything good in the world
> 
> @puddingcatbae on tumblr/twitter


End file.
